


we are such stuff as dreams are made on

by neopunch (caihongs)



Series: this thing of darkness i acknowledge mine [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dreams, Guardian Angels, M/M, Mention of Gods & Goddesses, Reincarnation, Strangers to Lovers, Supernatural Elements, Wish Fulfillment, if you can call it that, minor because they do not do anything really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25263013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caihongs/pseuds/neopunch
Summary: Mark Lee is sixteen going on seventeen, with the bare bones of his programmed personality planted in him, be it his naivete, perfect imperfections, determination and grit, altruism that serves as a double-edged sword, amongst the flurry of his other timeless qualities. Most importantly, he’s compliant enough to be moulded into the everyday fantasy, which is precisely what draws Renjun in in the first place.Mark Lee, as always, doesn’t know that he isn’t human. He is thrusted into the world as is any other disturbance, blissfully unaware that destruction is but a permanent side effect of his existence.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Mark Lee
Series: this thing of darkness i acknowledge mine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827181
Comments: 13
Kudos: 20





	we are such stuff as dreams are made on

**Author's Note:**

> warning: another product of procrastination and honestly, i wrote this just to tie up all the strings i left in a mess from the first work in this series
> 
> i do hope you enjoy it though! and i would say you could read this alone but for clarity's sake i suggest you to read [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24808144) first. 
> 
> title taken from shakespeare's the tempest
> 
> p.s. mark (for one iteration of his life) is transmasc and goes by they/them- i don't think it warrants a tag because it is a relatively small part of the fic but if you think it does/should or if you have any issues please let me know via my twitter or cc

It’s not so much a spark, a small blip on the map of the universe, but a single strike of lightning that signifies that something wicked has entered the world’s midst.

Wicked is an unpleasant way to put it, but the creation of Mark Lee is no simple, virtuous occurrence. A selfish act of a deity with not so much a presence on the stage of the Gods, but who reigns superior amongst those unearthly beings of which bitter blood runs through the cords of their bodies. 

She carves a perfectly ordinary appearance, a pair of eyes that go with a nose and lips, uneven at that to ensure the tangibility of him in the playground she will place him in. The kicker is, her sole purpose is for her child, her creation, is to have him wreak the most painful of heartbreaks upon those weak enough to fall for him. To be built with a skeleton forged with venom and stuffed with the poison of purity, he is her proudest achievement and impassioned offering to the world that has done her so many wrongs. 

In the time that he meets Renjun, he takes on the name Mark Lee, is freshly seventeen, and painfully unaware of the gravity of his existence. 

  
  


However, Mark Lee lives many a life before he meets Renjun.

  
  


Initially, he is Lee Minhyung, a young servant and stable boy whom Princess Mina meets in the court gardens when she is seven and promptly falls in love with, with what little knowledge she knows of love and in this case, its fatal consequences. For his first iteration, he does not so much as wreak heartbreak as he does wreak death. Mina seeks out her most prized possession every afternoon she manages to wriggle out of etiquette class or lessons on history, and Minhyung is but subject to her whims. The Kang court is up in arms when Crown Princess Mina declares her love for him in front of His and Her Royal Majesty, and the marriage is approved only under the assumption that they’ll be able to murder him, a slip of poison into his afternoon tea inducing an incurable illness that’ll render him paralysed and clearly unfit to rule a nation.

But alas, his creator makes him invincible, for Minhyung becomes the King Regent when the beloved Mina falls victim to an unknown illness that squeezes her lungs dry, the King and Queen having been the first to succumb. The poison never reaches the tea and Lee Minhyung, son of no one, and beloved Princess Mina’s first love, experiences devastation like no other. The Kang bloodline dies in his arms on a sweltering summer night, eyes closed, cheeks and lips pallid, and swaddled in white linen. Minhyung thinks she looks every bit as sweet as she did when he first met her.

  
  


He enjoys enough power for the rest of his reign to offset the agony he suffers upon the death of his lover, for his creator would never allow him to experience such prolonged sorrow. His purpose was to engender that for others, not endure that himself. 

  
  


Then it’s two boys who find each other in amidst the roar of ammunition whistling above their heads. Fifteen-year-old Jaehyun finds solace in Minhyung who doesn’t quite know the wonders the world can hold for him at age thirteen as his livelihood is ripped away from him the moment the bombs cascade over their hometown in a brilliant formation. It’s Jaehyun coming to the startling realisation that he loves Minhyung, in a way that doesn’t allow for him to let go when he should. Minhyung’s naivety colours him yellow in a sea of grey, a trait that reappears in every recurrence of his existence. Jaehyun loves Minhyung in a way one boy shouldn’t love another. It’s the glitter in his eyes when the lamp finally alights on another lightless night in another bunker. His undisputed belief in love and peace as the salves to the wounds of the world shrouded in warfare. The bubble of laughter that escapes him when Jaehyun trips over the nth rock that day. The gentle tug of Jaehyun’s wrist when Minhyung spots yet another insect perched on the flowers next to their dilapidated church.

As the shots reach closer and closer, their ears ringing with the sheer proximity of the artillery, Jaehyun tells Minhyung he loves him, fear strangling his heart to spit out the words it’s always wanted to say.

  
  


The dimming glitter in Minhyung’s eyes and the hot tears that well up in Jaehyun’s eyes is telling enough that Minhyung indeed has committed his second act of arson. The building crashes down on them, slicing thick skin and crushing young bones. Minhyung and Jaehyun never get a happy ending and it seems that is the destiny of this zeitgeist after all. 

  
  


The third universe has Mark Lee this time, hanging onto the bag straps of a particular Kunhang Wong— best friends turned something a little more permanent and a little more irreversible. Love seen under the purple fluorescent lights of their local diner as Kunhang swipes the mustard off Mark’s chin with his thumb and Mark flushes red like a warning sign telling them to brake and turn around if they knows what’s good for them. Love seen under the magnifying glass Kunhang perches atop Mark’s face so he can memorise the curve of a nose that’s slender and smooth, those eyes traced with grey, lashes that catch dust and touch high cheekbones, and those lines and scars that shape his lover. Love seen under the wraps of the dark, where Mark can kiss Kunhang silly without the fear that they’ll be pried apart by the eyes that lurk within the corners of their hometown. Mark lets Kunhang squeeze their waist when no one’s looking, lets him tug at the hair on the base of his neck where they’d chopped it with a blunt pair of scissors from the shoulder-length it used to hang at. In return, they runs their fingers through his boyfriend’s messy mop, all curls from the sweat he gathers from the elbow grease of the garage. Mark presses him in places that has him singing softly in response, his eyes closed as he wraps his arms around Mark and gives Mark the liberty of running their lips across his clavicle with a grin on their face. 

Two people adorning moto jackets and dirt smears across their cheeks, strands of greased hair falling over their eyes, and wearing smiles that are too bright around each other. 

Yet, in this life, Mark experiences heartbreak that may, for the first time, be in equal amounts to their counterpart. Ripped apart like paper from glue, the best friends turned something a little more than strangers are shipped off to new cities after graduation, where no one knows that they used to share more than just a leather jacket with someone who lit up their world like a celestial body in a sky reserved for one. Yet while Mark meets someone at school who loves them for who they are, Kunhang never quite moves on, and it’s that adaptability of one and the inability to move on of another that illustrates Mark’s third successful endeavour. 

The third time this occurs, the strike of lightning all those millenia ago finally catches wind in the gilded vestibules where the Gods and Goddesses gather their robes and enter into the Great Hall, where they sit still for a moment without engaging in another challenge or futile arrangement with an innocent mortal. 

For the spirits they say, speech slurred by the swirling red substances in their diamond-encrusted chalices. Mark Lee’s creator is but a blip in their world, insignificant and easily dismantled, but it is her creation that will inflict the most damage over the course of centuries. It will entangle the strings of time and its innate purpose to elucidate chaos will only bring rise to a greater phenomena that may shake the world as they know it. An angel of sorts, if you look at them in a certain way when the light hits them just right and illuminates the dark fog that obscures their glowing eyes and scythe dipped in molten gold, is set to protect Mark Lee’s next victim. His existence is now independent of his dead creator’s, set to appear randomly in whatever the blood in him sees him fit to belong. 

This brings us to the fourth, Huang Renjun. 

  
  


Mark Lee is sixteen going on seventeen, with the bare bones of his programmed personality planted in him, be it his naivete, perfect imperfections, determination and grit, altruism that serves as a double-edged sword, amongst the flurry of his other timeless qualities. Most importantly, he’s compliant enough to be moulded into the everyday fantasy, which is precisely what draws Renjun in in the first place.

  
  


Huang Renjun, the boy who dreams for hours on end, not always alone but not always in company. A boy who lives life with a rose-coloured filter slid over his lens, wondering why life is not as it seems when he closes his eyes and instead, reality clouds his vision. Bleak, grey reality. Renjun is blessed with the privilege of curiosity, curiosity that feeds off the wonders of fiction. What if’s and only if’s. It doesn’t obscure his inherent realist nature, but it is his daydream fuel and the reason for his distaste for the real world.

  
  


However, one golden light in amidst his terribly mundane reality is Chenle. A boy whom he’s known since they were both tottering around in walkers and who he had taken his firsts with. Chenle is his anchor when Renjun floats away too far, tethers him with enough length that he’ll recognise when it’s time to come home, and Renjun wonders if that role is too burdensome for him. When Renjun asks plainly if he’s tired of his bullshit, Chenle smiles like he’s a direct descendent of the Sun and squeezes the skin beneath Renjun’s chin.

  
  


“Don’t worry about me _ge_.” Chenle sucks in his cheeks noisily, leaning back on the wooden bench and soaking up the last bits of sunshine before the moon begins its journey before he tugs his best friend by the wrist.

  
  


“Come to the park with me, I learnt how to do an olley with my board!” 

  
  


That’s how many of their afternoons go, Chenle distracting Renjun enough for him to feel, hear, and see the soles of his feet pressing physical marks into soft dirt, the wind in his face, and the last throes of summer before it gets taken from right under them come September. 

  
  


This all changes when Mark Lee comes to town.

  
  


The new kid and quite possibly the most average boy you could find. A mop of brown hair, complete with a face holding two eyes, a nose, and lips. 

Mark Lee, as always, doesn’t know that he isn’t human. He is thrusted into the world as is any other disturbance, blissfully unaware that destruction is but a permanent side effect of his existence. 

  
  


He sits beside Renjun on his first day of school. It’s English and they’re learning about representations of the mind, literary worlds constructed that play with memories, desires, emotions, and motivations. Mark turns to the side, sheepish smile on his perfectly average face, and asks for his seatmate’s name and if he can spare a pencil. 

Seatmate— Renjun, Mark learns— offers him a sharp HB pencil and a soft smile, letting him know that he can ask for help any time. Mark says thanks, tacks on that new kids almost always get bullied in the movies, and Renjun doesn’t laugh at that. Mark thinks he’s messed up, his humour taking a new all-time low, but when Renjun giggles and tells him that it’s alright, he’s in Renjun’s good books, he sighs in relief. He’d found his match.

  
  


Mark does what he’s supposed to do. Joins the swim and track team, plays the flute for the orchestra, talks to and interacts with Renjun enough for his presence to spark a visceral reaction from him. He’s the school’s heartthrob, but he saves his genuine laughs and smiles for Renjun unknowingly. He accidentally steals all of Renjun’s stationery by forgetting his pencil case at home almost every day, takes Renjun’s breath away when he smiles, and ticks off all the checkboxes. 

  
  


Something in the air wavers come March, and Mark doesn’t give it much notice. His blood begins to thrum loudly beneath his skin and he loses more and more breath after each training session at the track field and after every lap at the pool. He has brief memories of a bullet searing his shoulder, the jawline of a man he doesn’t recognise, and silk curtains flying out of an open door. He doesn’t answer the universe even when it pleads for him to listen. He must be getting sick, it must be the abrupt change from winter to spring, as the flowers spring up sooner than he remembers, the cold that used to bite at his fingers is replaced with an almost scalding heat. Like the world is accelerating time but Mark doesn’t know for what.

  
  
  


When a hooded figure knocks lightly on the pane of Renjun’s window on the night of the 22nd, he almost faints.

  
  


It’s a dream surely. An incredibly vivid one sure, but Renjun’s had plenty of those before. 

  
  


The hooded figure introduces himself as Doyoung, a handsome, fatigued man in his mid-twenties who’s Renjun’s birthday genie, he says listlessly and with no amusement in his tone at all. Renjun is certain he’s lucid dreaming, because when Doyoung asks him what he wishes for, he tells him resolutely that he wants to be in a film. 

  
  


_A film?_

  
  


Doyoung lifts one arched brow at him before he nods.

  
  


_What else?_

  
  


What do you mean what else? Renjun has only ever wanted to be the main character, the boy with the yellow bike and aspirations that take him out of the countryside and into the big city. Be something greater than himself, and on the way, fall in love— 

  
  


_So, that is what you want._

  
  


Doyoung is indifferent. Actually, almost expectant. 

  
  


_Do you have someone in mind?_

  
  


He waves his sceptre of sorts vaguely in the air, and out comes a piece of paper and a pen. It’s almost laughable how immediate his heart is to speak for him when a loud, stupid laugh rings in his ears. 

  
  


_His name, Mark, you say?_

  
  


It’s a dream, he insists to himself. Doyoung doesn’t reveal his thoughts to Renjun, doesn’t call him delusional nor encourages it, but it’s when Renjun is handed the pen, its weight evident in his hand, that Doyoung stills.

  
  


_It’s in the fine print Renjun, the details and specifics. I—_

  
  


A sigh. The moonlight streams through the window, illustrating Doyoung’s transparency. Renjun can see the balusters through his body and they're still separated by the glass panes, Doyoung having fed the paper and the pen through the small opening Renjun had allowed of the window. 

  
  


Why does he falter now?

  
  


_Renjun, I know I said I granted wishes, but I need something from you. This, this request, requires more than just a signature and a spoken promise._

  
  


It’s just a dream.

  
  


_I need you to give me your heart._

  
  


Collateral. A heart for a wish come true, only when the conditions stated are broken.

Renjun is seventeen in a few minutes, and all too eager to see where this goes. So when Doyoung takes the pen and paper from under the window pane and murmurs something under his breath, Renjun thinks this is it. 

  
  


It’s just a dream but Renjun wants it to last for as long as possible. 

  
  


Doyoung looks at him for a moment longer, steely grey eyes softening at the sight of Renjun, in his striped pajama set and blue duvet cover pulled up to his chest.

  
  


_Happy birthday._

  
  


Like every first love, it’s debilitating in the way it swallows you. Renjun is met with mimesis in his first film, except Jaemin from AP Chem is Mark Lee’s boyfriend and Renjun owns a yellow bike. Chenle is here, a supporting male actor, but he isn’t the Chenle Renjun walks home with after school, nor the boy Renjun would trust his life with. He’s not the Chenle that would tell Renjun to wake up.

  
  


Renjun adapts quickly when he realises he never quite managed to read the fine print. 

  
  


Mark is for the fifth time now, catapulted into another universe. Yet Renjun’s heedless vow proves a turning point. The concentrated source and causation for entropy in the universe since his creation is entrenched in something entirely different when Renjun wishes for him to be his co-star, and trades his soul while he’s at it.

It congeals into something ugly when Mark’s body betrays him, the crushing force of a thousand strings stretching from all corners of the universe, spanning the virtually hundreds of cosmic levels his existence is tangentially related to, with a million points of contact weighing on his shoulders. He snaps at the third movie, disguised as a dramatic walkaway from Renjun after a simple misunderstanding when really, his veins were bulging and threatening to burst out of his waxy skin. 

So in order of Mark’s increasing awareness, it goes like this:

  1. He almost dies while Renjun is having an introspective sequence for a third of the movie, blood burning the surfaces of every organ in his body and his heart almost fails on him as a result. He survives solely on ibuprofen and it seems the Gods take pity on him because he survives the entire ordeal, and still manages to play his part without anyone suspecting a thing.
  2. It’s the night before a party in the fourth movie, when he’s fast asleep only to be jolted awake by the memory of fanfare, fireworks and a parade down a village he recognises as home. A pretty girl by his side who brings him his favourite fruits in the wraps of her dress, and whose smile illuminates the entire kingdom. He knows he loved her, because when she takes her last breath in his arms, Mark cries. 
  3. It’s coming together. Mark doesn’t know where he’s come from, because his mother and father are definitely not the 1st-generation Korean-Canadians sleeping in the room next door, and no one can tell him if he’s dreaming or not. Yet his dreams, they’re so vivid that there has to be an ounce of truth within them. His senses are triggered by the sound of a ceremonial gong. He can smell gunpowder on the tips of his fingers, a boy with dimples dotting the ends of his smile holding his hand. The taste of fries dipped in mustard on his tongue. Wet, black hair falling over eyes outlined in black, hair that dusts the tops of his shoulders. 
  4. Lee Minhyung, son of no one and the newly-anointed King of the Kang Kingdom. Lee Minhyung with scraped knees and a best friend with kind eyes who faces a world shrouded in grey rubble with him. Mark Lee, who wears their lover’s leather jacket around their shoulders like a safety blanket, who opens their doors to one boy with oil running down his arms and a wicked smile. 



He is all of them. When Renjun asks who he is when he comes by the flower shop, he almost stutters, because it comes to his attention belatedly that Mina, Jaehyun, and Kunhang, never got to be happy. Not just with him, but ever. 

  1. He knows Renjun loves him. The boy almost tells him in the fifth movie as the sun sets in front of them and Mark is so close to Renjun he can almost see how much he’s grown up in the six years they’ve been chained together. But he has a boy at home waiting for his call and even if they did kiss, if Mark truly loved Renjun the way Renjun loved him, he couldn’t make him suffer like the rest of them. 



Mark loves a Donghyuck this time, and Renjun is subject to a heartbreak that Mark hopes hurts less than what would have been. 

  
  


Mark has time to wonder while his protagonist is out finding himself in the big city. He collects time like it’s a precious mineral, stealing what he can while Renjun is establishing a backstory of his own, to think.

If he’s not exactly human, what exactly is he? If he has lived multiple lives only to destroy in every single one, whose wish is he fulfilling?  
  


Why has he met Renjun several times in this multi-layered universe, since he woke up with a ‘Jaemin’ calling his line and eyes watching his every movement in the trees and the bushes? 

He doesn’t collect enough time to answer his increasing number of questions, but as if by magic, someone comes bearing the truth.

  
  


Mark wakes the night before his first day of college to a hooded figure looming beside him.

  
  


_I see you’ve figured it out._

  
  


The figure reveals himself as a young man with dark circles and straight black hair that falls just above his eyes.

  
  


_My name is Doyoung, and I was supposed to protect Renjun against you_.

  
  


Doyoung speaks with undecorated language. Mark supposes he thanks him for it, because he realises that his existence is more complex than he could’ve ever theorised. 

A mother of sorts banished and murdered by a legion of Gods and Goddesses of varying origins. Chaos weaved into his being, swirling with his blood, and forged into his bones. It’s simple until it isn’t when Doyoung sits beside him. 

  
  


_When I came to Renjun, asking him to what he wished for in the guise of a birthday gift, I was expecting something else. He was so unhappy with his life, and I was so sure that he wouldn’t wish for you._

  
  


Doyoung chuckles as if mocking himself and Mark silently pushes for more as he turns around and watches Doyoung glisten under the moonlight. 

  
  


_I didn’t realise the extent of your power. She made you indestructible Mark. I’m more than a million centuries old and yet, it didn’t seem— you and Renjun weren’t in love. And hell if a film was what he wanted, I would give him thousands. Anything to protect him from you._

  
  


Doyoung means no harm by that, especially when he looks at Mark and Mark can read the devotion to his duty in his eyes. Demanded to protect someone against an infallible entity and despite his wisdom and skill traversing eons of time, it seems he’d failed.

  
  


_It’s been ten years Mark. Ten years since he wished for you to be with him in these string of films he asked for. I told him about the fine print, but that boy didn’t listen._ Another chuckle.

  
  


_He knows he’s stuck in this for at least another five years unless he breaks one of the conditions._

  
  


Mark doesn’t know if he loves Renjun. Whether their circumstances have altered their course, making him more inclined to see Renjun in a new light or creating a subconscious that tells him it’s all pretense, Mark doesn’t know if he loves Renjun. 

  
  


“What would he have to do?” 

  
  


Doyoung stares at him for a moment, before he turns back around and closes his eyes.

  
  


_At a certain point, you’ll realise that it’s acting. In every single film, every single new world that gets written into existence by this panel of screenwriters, there is always a turning point. So far, Renjun has just missed it. The film makes the cut a bit earlier than expected, a sequence doesn’t take that long to film, Renjun has a good streak that month and everything goes swimmingly. But, there is a point, where you realise that it’s not all as it seems, and Renjun is supposed to knock you off your train of thought. Pretend that you’re just confused, you’re remembering things that never existed._

  
  


Mark knows he owes something to him. In a twisted way, he would have never realised the story of his genesis, if he is to call it a genesis, if it weren’t for Renjun roping him into his fantasies.

Like a see-saw, Renjun has placed his weight on one side and lifted Mark high up, allowing him to see what lies beyond the cover of the forest they’ve found themselves in. 

  
  


“So all he has to do is entertain me.” To that, Doyoung gives him a wry smile.

  
  


_I’m here to answer your questions, not your statements._

  
  


“What happens after? What—” _What did he give up for this?_ Mark’s naive but not naive enough to ignore the fact that a price was paid for this.

  
  


_His heart Mark, he gave his heart. He did it so willingly I almost pitied him._

  
  


Doyoung recalls the blue duvet and the crumpled pajamas. Mark can see it too. It feels like he’s preyed on a child.

  
  


_Mark, don’t. You’re not— you’re just as innocent as he is._ Doyoung presses his cold hand on top of Mark’s warm one, knuckles curled over Mark’s own. 

  
  


“Doyoung, can— can I wish for something too?”

  
  


_Mark, I wouldn’t do that._ Doyoung falters and Mark sees a crack of opportunity.

  
  


“If I wanted redemption Doyoung, not just for Renjun but for everyone else. Mina, Jaehyun, Kunhang… Could I give myself up?” Mark presses his other hand on top of Doyoung, careful not to push his palm through entirely. Just atop Doyoung’s own to mimic tangibility. 

  
  


_Mark, I—_

  
  


“You can tell them you were coerced, that I went insane and you had no choice but to allow me this.” 

  
  


Mark wants Renjun to be happy. He may not love him the same, but his happiness is what Mark would go to the ends of the Earth for. 

  
  


Doyoung sighs, before a piece of paper and a pen manifests in the air between them. It isn’t even the blame Doyoung is afraid of, nor Mark. It’s the desperation laced in Mark’s tone that Doyoung is weak for. Even he is vulnerable to Mark Lee. 

The moonlight has all but ebbed in exchange for the rise of the sun. To Mark though, as the sunrise reflects red hues onto Doyoung’s being, it looks rather as if it’s dying instead.

  
  


_Are you sure about this?_

  
  


Mark has already taken the liberty of running his nails down his chest and drawing blood. 

  
  


_We take no responsibility of what may occur from this point on, do you understand this?_

  
  


“Of course.” 

  
  


Doyoung looks at Mark again, and Mark wonders whethere Doyoung has looked this human in his lifetime. He fusses and wipes the red up so it doesn’t drip onto the bedsheets before he takes the paper and the pen and tucks it into his cloak.

  
  


_Goodbye Mark._

  
  


The fine print reads: a heart for a heart.

  
  


When he kisses Renjun, he feels the pulse of Renjun’s heart so loud that it rattles his bones. When he sees Renjun reach a state of catharsis when Mark tells him he’s tired of the plot, it’s almost too easy to see where it goes from there. 

Mark has become a brilliant actor over the past decade. 

  
  


_“You were going to tell me you loved me.”_

  
  


_“Mark, come on, we don’t have much time.”_

  
  


Maybe it’s futile at this point, but Mark realises just how beautiful Renjun really is. Superimposed against the birth of twilight, as Mark withers and Renjun cries his first real tears in a long time, he is still so beautiful.

  
  


_“You’re still handsome.”_

  
  


_“You’ve always been a bad liar.”_

  
  


Act VI, Scene I

  
  


Mark vies for redemption for the trail of broken hearts he’s left in his wake, bleeding out on the doorsteps of history. 

  
  


But when he kisses Renjun for the second time, with fervour as he pushes his hand further into the boy’s chest, he thinks he wants something more.

A dream come true. 

**Author's Note:**

> favourite line?
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/renminsungs) \+ [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/98mbins)
> 
> i will most likely have a dreamwidth post up about this soon so keep an eye out for [it](https://caihong.dreamwidth.org/640.html)!
> 
> please continue to support and fight for [black lives](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/)


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